In the year 1841, a winsome, honest lad who had determined to join
the Navy of his country, and who had been thwarted in his purpose by
friends at home, made his way alone from Florida to Washington and
demanded his right to speak to the President, which was not denied him.
Mr. Tyler was so pleased by the youthful manliness of the little chap,
who was only eight years old, that he invited him to dine at the White
House on the following day. The young Floridian was the observed of all
observers; members of the Cabinet and their wives, members of Congress
and officers of the Navy had heard of the little lad's story, and all
united in espousing his patriotic cause.
The President, won by his ardor as well as by his gentlemanly and
modest behavior, granted the boy's request and immediately signed his
warrant as a midshipman in the United States Navy.
The subsequent record of Capt. Joseph Fry, the Christian gentleman, the
gallant sailor, the humane commander, the chivalrous soldier, is known
to readers of American history. Of heroic mould and dignified address,
he was
"A combination and a form indeed,
Where every god did seem to set his seal
To give the world assurance of a man."
When the Civil War came, it found him among the most beloved and
honored officers in the service. The trial of his faith was bitter but
brief. He could not fight against his home and loved ones, much as he
honored the flag which he had so long and faithfully cherished. He was
a Southerner, and with many pangs of sincere regret he went with his
native State for weal or woe.
His personal bravery during the war was wonderful; he never performed
deeds of valor under temporary excitement, but acted with such coolness
and daring as to command the admiration of superiors and inferiors
alike. He was severely wounded at the battle of White River, and
while on sick leave was ordered, at his own request, to command the
Confederate blockade runner _Eugénie_, upon which the writer made a
voyage.
On one occasion the _Eugénie_ grounded outside of Fort Fisher while
trying to run through the fleet in daylight. The ship was loaded
with gunpowder, the Federal fleet was firing upon her, the risk of
immediate death and destruction to crew and ship was overwhelming. Fry
was ordered by Colonel Lamb to abandon the vessel and save his crew
from death by explosion. He accordingly told all who wished to go to do
so, but as for himself, he would stand by the ship and try to save the
powder, which was greatly needed by the Confederate Government. Several
boatloads of his men retreated to the fort; a few remained with Fry,
the enemy's shells flying thick and fast around them. In the face of
this great danger, Fry lightened his ship, and upon the swelling tide
brought vessel and cargo safely in.
Later on he commanded the steamer _Agnes E. Fry_, named in honor of
his devoted wife. In this ship he made three successful voyages, after
which she was unfortunately run ashore by her pilot and lies not far
distant from the _Virginius_. Captain Fry was then placed in active
service during the remainder of the war in command of the Confederate
gunboat _Morgan_ and was highly complimented by his general, Dabney H.
Maury, for conspicuous bravery in action.
After the war his fortunes underwent many changes. Several undertakings
met with varying success or failure. At last, he went to New York in
July, 1873, where he hoped to secure employment in command of an ocean
steamer. There he was introduced to General Quesada, agent of the Cuban
Republic, who offered him the command of the steamer _Virginius_, then
lying in the harbor of Kingston, Jamaica. He accepted the offer, and
received a month's pay in advance, $150, two-thirds of which he sent to
his needy family, and reserved the remainder for his personal outfit.
The _Virginius_, originally named _Virgin_, was built in Scotland
in 1864 and was specially designed for a blockade runner in the
Confederate service. She made several successful trips between Havana
and Mobile. Being shut up in the latter port, she was used by the
Confederates as a dispatch and transport steamer. For a time after the
war she was used by the Federal Government in the United States Revenue
Service, but proving unsatisfactory, owing to her great consumption
of coal, was sold at public auction by the United States Treasury
Department to an American firm. The owners in 1870 took out American
papers in legal form and cleared her for Venezuela. From that time she
was used in carrying volunteers and supplies to Cuba; and while engaged
in this business under the American flag, recognized by American
consuls as an American vessel, she was overhauled at sea on the 31st
of October, 1873, by the Spanish man-of-war _Tornado_ and declared a
prize to the Spanish Government. Fry never dreamed of greater danger;
he occupied the same position he had assumed while running the Federal
blockade and the same as in the recent cases of the _Commodore_ and
the _Bermuda_. He was a merchantman, carried no guns, made no armed
resistance, and flew the American flag. Notwithstanding all this, a
drumhead court martial was held on board the _Tornado_ and on the
second day afterwards the unfortunate victims were condemned as pirates
and sentenced to immediate execution at Santiago de Cuba, where the
Spanish warship had arrived. Even then Captain Fry and his crew, who
were nearly all Americans, expected a release through the intervention
of the United States authorities. Vain hope! The American consul was
absent; the vice-consul did what he could in vain; the Home Government
was silent; the British consul protested, but without avail, and the
butchery of these brave men began. We read from the newspaper accounts
of the dreadful scene as the victims were ranged facing a wall. Captain
Fry asked for a glass of water, which was given him by the friendly
hand of one of his own race. He then walked with firm, unfaltering
steps to the place assigned him, and calmly awaited the volley which
ended his noble life.
A touching incident occurred on the march to execution. When the brave
man passed the American Consulate, he gravely saluted the bare pole
which should have borne the flag, once and again so dear to his heart,
but which had failed him in his extremity.
Although the firing party was only ten feet away, says the published
account, Fry was the only one killed outright. Then ensued a horrible
scene. "The Spanish butchers advanced to where the wounded men lay,
writhing and moaning in agony, and placing the muzzles of their guns
in the mouths of their victims, shattered their heads into fragments.
Others were stabbed to death with knives and swords."
Fifty-three victims had suffered death, ninety-three more were made
ready for execution; the bloody work was to be resumed, when an
unlooked-for intervention came. The news had reached Jamaica, and it
found in the harbor the British man-of-war _Niobe_ under command of
Capt. Sir Lambton Lorraine, who, true to his Anglo-Saxon instincts,
needed no orders to speed to the rescue. Leaving in such haste that
many of his men were left behind, he steamed with forced draft to
Santiago. Before the anchor reached the bottom of the harbor the
_Niobe's_ drums had beat to quarters and the well-trained gunners were
at their stations.
Commander Lorraine ignored the customary formalities; precious lives
were trembling in the balance; moments were vital. Before the Spanish
general was made aware of his arrival, Lorraine stood before him and
demanded that the execution be stayed. To Burriel's unsatisfactory
response the brave commander returned answer that in the absence of an
American man-of-war he would protect the interest of the Americans.
Still the Spaniard hesitated; he had tasted human blood, but his
thirst was not satisfied. Again the gallant Britisher demanded an
unequivocal answer, and, report says, confirmed it by a threat that he
would bombard the town, as he had in Honduras for the protection of
the Anglo-Saxon. His prompt, decisive action arrested the bloody work,
and eventually saved the lives of the remainder of the crew of the
_Virginius_.
On his return to England some months later, Sir Lambton was detained
some days in New York. The city authorities, animated by his gallant
conduct, tendered him a public reception, which was modestly declined.
Virginia City, Nev., desiring to testify its appreciation of his noble
humanity, forwarded to him a fourteen-pound brick of solid silver,
upon which was inscribed his name and the incident, with the legend
"Blood is thicker than water," signifying also in Western eulogy
"You're a brick."
A tardy recognition of the rights of American possession was made later
by the Spanish Government, and the _Virginius_ was delivered to an
American man-of-war. While towing the unfortunate craft off Cape Fear
and bound for a Northern port, the _Virginius_ sprang a leak, or, some
say, was scuttled, and found her grave in the ocean depths beneath us.